It's Not Always Weakness
by princesslillyan
Summary: "Emma," his voice quieter as he stood and gently took her face in his hand and made her look at him, so he could see the injuries himself. He hissed at how deep one of the gashes was. Up close he could see that her eye was going to be bruised as well, if not swollen shut by morning. "You are most certainly not fine." "Yeah, well, you should see the other guy."


She was late getting home. It wasn't normal. Well, not- not normal. The not normal part was that she hadn't contacted him. If she was going to be out later than what she originally planned, she always called or texted. But tonight it was nothing but radio silence. Killian was trying his best not to let it bother him, but try as he might, he couldn't concentrate on the book in his hand as he slowly waited for some sign that his roommate was in fact, breathing. He kept himself gazing out the window, watching the snow fall gently and the lights from other apartments twinkle.

Sighing, he put his book down and reached for the stack of ungraded papers on his coffee table. At least he could force himself to focus on his students work. Grading freshman English papers about the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet filled him with foreboding, but at least it worked to take his mind off the absence of one Miss Emma Swan.

Six months ago, his best mate David, had asked him if his little sister could rent out his spare bedroom until she got on her feet in Boston. He had readily agreed, his mind's eye picturing the gangly girl he had met once upon a time when Dave had dragged him home for his thanksgiving their second year of college. She had been 14, quiet, shy, and avoided both him and Dave the whole weekend. For some reason, his brain had not been able to comprehend the blonde beauty in cut off jeans and a tank top standing in his door as the same girl- woman. 12 years had changed the girl from all awkward arms and legs, to a blonde beauty filled out in all the right places. If it hadn't been for her unmistakable green eyes, he wouldn't have recognized her.

 _"Are going to let me in?" Her eyebrow raised and he shook his head to gather his senses and opened the door farther._

 _"Of course, love, I'm sorry." She smirked as she moved past him and set her duffle bag down in the middle of the kitchen. "I guess when Dave told me you needed a place to stay, I still pictured the 14 year old you were. You're quite grown up, Emma Swan."_

 _She hummed at him in amusement. He wasn't sure how to process this seemingly cool facade she wore, but knew better than to push for answers. Clearing his throat, he motioned to the hallway. "I'll give you the nickel tour quickly, then I can help you with whatever luggage you have with you."_

 _"Thanks, but this is all I have. Well, this and like two boxes in my car. I'm not too sentimental. David said you had a bed, or do I need to go buy one?"_

 _He smiled and led her down the hall._

Keys jangling in the door broke him out of his memory, and he looked up in time to see the woman herself slip silently through the door. Her jacket was wrapped around her like a shroud and her beanie was pulled farther down her head than normal. She moved slowly past him, and before he could ask where she had been or why she didn't call, she dropped her phone onto his lap. It worked to silence him as he took in its destroyed state. The entire thing was smashed, screen and case, with the wires holding together.

The groan from her as she pulled off her beanie and jacket pulled his attention up to her. "What the devil happened?" He exclaimed, sitting up and letting everything on his lap fall to the floor. The left side of her head was caked in blood, there were a series of scrapes along her cheekbone, and her left arm was in a sling.

"I'm fine Killian." She refused to look at him as she continued pulling off her boots, trying to hide the wince of pain.

"Emma," his voice quieter as he stood and gently took her face in his hand and made her look at him, so he could see the injuries himself. He hissed at how deep one of the gashes was. Up close he could see that her eye was going to be bruised as well, if not swollen shut by morning. "You are most certainly not fine."

"Yeah, well, you should see the other guy." He raised an eyebrow at her and she sighed, "a suspect gave us a hard time and decided picking on the girl would be smart. Well let me tell you, this girl knocked his ass out and he will wake up in a jail cell."

"He still managed to get a few shots in." He turned her head slightly and saw the dried blood in her hair. He couldn't stop the hiss of disapproval. He let his hand toy with an errant curl before letting it trail down her arm, over the sling and across her finger tips. Her breath hitched and she took the tiniest step back. He instantly felt guilty for pushing the invisible lines she had drawn between them, he had been to caught up in her injuries, he let his affections for her show.

"Eh, nothing a warm shower and a bottle of wine won't fix. The pain meds the clinic gave me should be wearing off soon. I want to be in bed before that happens. I'm going to get in the shower." He stared at her retreating form before sitting back on the couch.

 _"So why Boston? Weren't you happy in New York?" Emma had lived with him for two weeks and they were enjoying chinese food on the couch together. When he saw her freeze, he hated the fact that he said anything. "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that. I don't want you to feel like you aren't welcome here. You are. I was just curious and like usual, I put my foot in my mouth."_

 _"It's alright. My happiness there was an illusion." She paused to take a sip of her wine. "I thought I was happy. We had finished an out of town case quicker than expected and I got home a day earlier than planned. Found my fiance in bed with another man. I loved him, but he was using me as a beard to inherit his aunt's money."_

 _Killian couldn't help but laugh, but stopped when Emma didn't crack a smile. "Wait, you are serious?"_

 _"Like a heart attack," was the mumbled reply. "The thing is, if he would have just been honest with me, I would have been fine with it. But no, the asshole got me to fall in love with him. I should have known something was off when he didn't know what or where a clitoris was."_

 _Killian spit his beer out, and Emma laughed as he coughed to regain his composure. "What an unfortunate turn of events for you."_

 _"Eh, I can take care of myself." His brain flooded him with images of Emma sprawled out, pleasuring herself. Just the thought of the sounds she would make had him half hard, and he groaned. The smirk he caught on her face let him know she knew exactly what he had just pictured._

 _"Well," he began in an effort to regain some control of the conversation. He turned towards her and waggled his eyebrows. "If you ever require some- assistance- my room is just across the hall."_

 _Her lips pursed in thought, as if she were contemplating his offer, but then she giggled. "I don't think that is such a good idea, you being my brother's best friend and all. I don't know who he would be more upset with. You for 'seducing me' or at me for 'stealing you away' from him. Face it Jones, we'll never be more than roomies."_

 _"As you wish."_

It was faint, he barely heard it. The water had been running for ten minutes, but he couldn't help but hear hiccups. Cautiously, he approached the door and listened. Sure enough, over the sounds of the shower, he heard her sobbing. With a deep breath, he knocked on the door. "Emma?"

* * *

Emma sat on the cold ceramic of the tub and let the water rain down on her as she cried. Her left arm curled against her chest and other arm wrapped around her legs. It wasn't that she was in pain, it didn't hurt when she remained still. Her head hurt more than her arm, having slipped on a patch of ice while grappling with the suspect and he had used her momentum to slam her face into a brick wall. What truly hurt was every time she raised her arm to wash her hair, the pain intensified; sharp pain the length of her arm that instantly brought tears to her eyes.

She hadn't lied to Killian. Their suspect would indeed wake up in a jail cell, she had just left out the part where she had woken up in the hospital. The asshole had yanked her shoulder out of it's socket and when her partner, Graham, had tried to pop it back in, he had pinched a nerve and she had passed out. After waking up in the hospital, the bad news according to them was that they had had to dislocate her shoulder again to free the nerve and then pop it back, and that she would be sore for several days. The good news, they said, was the scrape on her face was surface only and wouldn't need stitches. They had given her a dose of pain meds and sent ahead a prescription to her pharmacy.

Only the pharmacy was backed up and it wouldn't be ready until the morning. Merry fucking Christmas to her.

The worry in Killian's eyes had almost been her undoing. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in his arms and let him shield her from the world, if only for the night, but that wasn't who Emma was. She didn't ask to be comforted. She took care of herself. The only one who saved her was her.

The knock on the door caused her to choke back a sob. Before she could answer, the door swung open. "Emma?" His voice was quiet, muffled by the water. He said nothing else as he walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. The gesture made her smile, that he remembered she loved to make a sauna while in the shower. She watched as his shadow sat down next to the curtain. "Emma, I could hear you. Talk to me." His voice was so caring and so sincere that everything just tumbled out of her lips with a sob.

"I just want to wash my hair! The bastard dislocated my shoulder and I can't lift my arm. It hurts so much! The pharmacy was backed up and now the medication from the hospital is wearing off and it just hurts so much. And I just want to wash my hair. And I hate that I'm so helpless. I hate it. I fucking hate it. I hate being this weak and not able to do it myself." She cried. She heard him sigh through her tears before there was a rustle of clothes. The next thing she knew the curtain pulled back slightly.

"Stand up Swan." She looked up at him, and knew that she painted a pathetic picture: Small and timid, naked and bruised, mascara running down her cheeks, and dried blood running down the drain.

"I don't need your-" She started but the hard look he gave her cut her off. He pulled the curtain back a little more and stepped into the shower, clad only in his boxers.

"It's not always weakness to admit you need help. Stop being so bloody stubborn. Please stand up and let me help you." She stood and his eyes never left hers. "You might not be used to showering one handed, but I am. I promise to be the perfect gentleman."

Slowly, she turned so her back was to him. She vaguely heard him use the pump to gather shampoo is his hand before she felt his fingers gently start to massage her scalp. It felt heavenly and after the day she had, she couldn't help but sink back against him. There were few things in the world that could be called an orgasmic experience; a good pint of Rocky Road ice cream, fresh bear claws, a grilled cheese sandwich from Granny's, hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon, and someone else washing your hair. Specifically, Killian Jones washing her hair. He made sure to shampoo it twice, once to rid it of the dried blood, the second to scrub at her scalp. But the real blissful part was when he worked the conditioner into her hair.

It wasn't a secret that Emma had a lot of hair, but he meticulously worked the conditioner from scalp to ends, using his fingers to detangle it was it soaked into her hair. When he began to massage the base of her neck, where her muscles were knotted, she groaned in pleasure and let her head fall forward. Forgetting the events of the day and just enjoying the sensation of someone taking care of her.

"Swan?" She hummed. It was the only response she was capable of in her blissed out relaxed state. "Though the sounds you're making would normally encourage a man-"

It took a moment for his words to register, as relaxed as she was against him, but when they did, she couldn't help but feel guilty. When she had tilted her head forward, it had caused her back side to rub against him, and she could feel the situation she had caused, pressing long and hard into her lower back. She turned her head to look at him, and she couldn't tell if his cheeks were flushed from the hot water, embarrassment, or arousal.

He shook his head and took a slight step back, putting just enough space between them that she immediately missed the feel of him pressed against her. She mentally cursed herself, not for letting her guard down, her guard had been down around this man for longer than he knew, but because she felt like she had unintentionally led him on. He had flirted with her on and off those first few weeks they lived together, but when she had drawn the line at just friends, he had respected that, and never again pressed the idea. "This was a bad idea, I didn't think this would get so-"

"Hard?" She supplied and he turned an even darker shade of red, if that was possible. She had dreamed of them in the shower together, and all the things they would do if she could just have the courage to say that she was interested in more. Plus there was the added bonus of how adorably flustered he got when in a compromising situation.

"Bad form to mock a man that's trying to be a gentleman when he has a beautiful woman naked in the shower." He reprimanded, but there was no bite to his words. If anything, his voice had gotten deeper. She could hear the desire in his voice, and it filled her with longing, and a little hope. Reached back, she grabbed ahold of his stumped arm and pulled it around her, essentially bringing their bodies flush against each other again. She sighed in contentment, because he didn't fight her, but mostly because it felt so right to have him pressed against her. It was something she hadn't realized was missing until that point.

"You can at least finish what you started." Using her good hand, she massaged his forearm as it laid across her belly. After a beat, he turned her head slightly to rinse out her hair, but she could feel it now, the tension running through his body. She pulled his arm farther around her, fussing their bodies closer together. She couldn't help but noticed that he purposefully kept his hips back from her.

"If-" she licked her lips and started again, "if you were to be, I don't know, less of a gentleman, what would you do with the naked woman in your shower?"

She felt him pause, and then a tremor of excitement shot down her spine at the low growl in his chest. He took a step towards her and her core clenched when she could feel him pressed against her again, and he spoke low in her ear. "I would kiss away every bruise and ache on her glorious skin. Tell her how beautiful she is to me. Not just on the outside, but the beautiful and kind soul that she is too. How every single day I am in awe of how amazing she is."

She took a deep breath and looked back at him. His eyes were blown wide with arousal and it took everything in her to not give in to the desire he had stoked. "Maybe, one of these days, you could be less of a gentleman?" Her voice was breathless and she hadn't meant it to sound like a question, but she just had to be certain they were on the same page.

"Aye, maybe one day when she's not high on pain meds. Or has enough adrenaline in her system she thinks she can lift a bus." He grinned down at her, before leaning in and kissing her nose. He took a step back, and smiled. "Finish your shower love, you know where to find me if you need anything else." It was only then that he looked her body up and down, raising his eyebrow in appreciation. He laughed when her sponge hit him in the face. She could still hear him laughing as he left the bathroom.

* * *

The cold air of his bedroom helped ease the ache of his erection. With a chuckle, he changed out of his soaked boxers and sprawled out on his bed. That was not what he had expected to happen, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't delighted. He had been waiting for a sign from her, something that clued him into the fact that any advance from him wouldn't be shot down. Or end up with him having a broken nose.

Vaguely he heard the water turn off, and a few moments later bathroom door opened and he heard her take the few steps down the hall to her room. He caught a glimpse of her legs through the doors before she was hidden in her closet. He had left his own bedroom door open so he could hear if she yelled for him. She must have been thinking the same, as her door was left open a crack and it was not 3 minutes later that he heard her faintly calling his name.

With a sigh, he heaved himself off his bed and across the hall to her room. Surely this woman was trying to work him into an early grave. He had a lot of patience, and would wait for this woman forever, but he wasn't a saint. If she kept pushing him, he wasn't sure he would be able to resist what she had been so clearly offering in the shower.

At her door he was met with the sight of her bare backside, except for her underwear, bent over her rocking chair by the window. Her arms held the towel in place over her front as she huffed in frustration. He would be tempted to laugh, but new that he really would end up with a broken nose.

"You rang?" He voiced as deep as he could. She turned her head and raised an eyebrow, couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her lips.

"You might teach acting to the prepubescent masses, but you should stick to literature. It's what you're good at." He chuckled as he held a hand to his heart.

"You wound me Swan. I'll have you know, the masses find my impressions mostly spot on."

"No, the teenage girls in your classes fall for your pretty boy face or your deliciously British accent, and just go along with whatever you say because they have a crush on you." She objected turning back to the pile of clothes on her chair. He had to chuckle at her. This woman hated doing laundry. And if there was anything worse than washing laundry, it was putting it away. If left to her, she would live out of baskets, instead of hanging the clothes in the closet or putting them in drawers.

Coming to stand next to her, he was able to see her side that he couldn't in the shower. It was riddled with bruises that were a deep purple and he knew that had to hurt. Without thought, he reached out and gently brushed his fingertips against her ribs, where the worst of the bruising was. She startled a bit, but before he could pull away, she was leaning into his touch.

"Your hands are warm. They feel good." She explained before he could ask.

"So, why are you standing here mostly naked?"

"I tried to put on a t-shirt, but I can't lift my arm high enough to get it over my head. I was hoping I had something I could slip on, or you could help me. But I have nothing. And it's too fucking cold to sleep naked because the landlord in the building is too cheap to fix the damn heat."

"Wait here." He turned and bounded over to his room, grabbed the first shirt of his he could find and came back to see her waiting on her bed. He held out his shirt and saw her eyebrows raise in surprise. "You can use this. The button up means we don't have to irritate your shoulder to get over your head."

"Killian, this is your favorite flannel shirt. Are you sure this is ok?" The uncertainty in her voice decided him more than anything. With the flannel draped over his bad arm, he reached out and gently cupped her cheek with his palm..

"Swan, if you haven't figured it out by now, let me enlighten you. Anything I have is yours for the taking if you want. Anything." She smiled and leaned into him. "How about we get you into something warm and then in bed, yeah?"

She nodded and took a step back, letting the towel fall to the floor as she turned away from him so he could help her slip the shirt on. She was able to button it herself as his hand rested gently on her shoulder. Admittedly, she looked damn good in his shirt. Swallowing nervously, he moved around her to her dresser and picked up her brush.

Quietly, they moved to the bed as he helped her with brushing out her hair, and even surprised her when he was able to wrangle it into a loose braid. It took a few tries, but he was able to get a rhythm down with moving the strands with his hand while he pinned the other one to her back with his stump. Thankfully she was able to pull the whole thing over her shoulder and put the tie in it using both of her hands.

They sat in silence, neither wanting to break the spell they seemed to be under. It should have been awkward, but it wasn't. It felt so natural, and he had to stop himself from leaning over and finding out if her lips were as soft as they looked.

"Thank you, Killian. For everything." She whispered and leaned her head on his shoulder. He kissed the crown of her head and pulled her closer.

"Anything for you."

"Will you stay with me tonight? It's cold, and I'm afraid of rolling onto my shoulder." Instead of answering, he shimmied back onto her bed and laid down. Wordlessly, she followed suit, and pulled the blankets around them before curling into his side with her head on his chest. Her bad arm resting across his stomach. With a sigh of contentment, she placed a gentle kiss to his chest before murmuring. "Good night Killian."

"Good night, my Swan."

* * *

He should have known he would wake up alone. But it was still a surprise when he opened his eyes, and the bed next to him was empty. A heaviness settled back into his heart. He didn't want to go back, but the evidence that the line was clearly back in place stared him in the face in the form of the empty bed.

With a sigh, he detangled himself from the cocoon of blankets he was wrapped in and trudged to his room to pull on a pair of sweatpants and his house coat. He wasn't surprised, just disappointed that she wasn't even in the apartment. He did give a slight bit of credit that his student's papers were back on the table, and not scattered where they had fallen last night. With a sigh, he sat at the table and rested his forehead in his arms, so lost in his own thoughts, he didn't hear the door open.

"Wow, you look like you got it bad. Rough night?" The smile on her face caught him off guard. He watched as she expertly toed off her winter boots before setting down the cup holder she had with two steaming cups of something that smelled delicious. Mesmerized by her, he continued to watch as she pulled off her hat and unzipped his winter jacket. Under it, she still had on his shirt and a pair of leggings. She picked up the cups and stood in front of him, holding out one of the cups with a shy smile.

He took it gingerly and took a sip. It was hot chocolate from their favorite coffee shop down the road. "I thought you-"

"Ran?" She took a sip of her cup to hide her smirk. "I don't blame you for that, but the pharmacy called at like 6 am and I didn't want to wake you up at the ass crack of dawn on Christmas Eve. So I got up as quietly as possible. I did wrap you back up though. I told you my room is cold-" The rest of her explanation was cut off as he leaned forward and kissed her. The startled squeak made him smile and he backed away with a loud smack of their lips. Slowly he licked his lips, savoring the faint taste of cinnamon that was on her lips, as he watched her face. Her eyes were closed and the slow smile that blossomed on her face filled his heart with happiness. Blindly, she set her coffee down on the table next to his. "Hmm, as far as first kisses go, I was expecting a little less sass, and more," She opened her eyes then, and the sultry look she gave him set his blood on fire. She leaned forward until there was almost no space between them and he held his breath as she whispered against his lips, "just more."

Her lips were on his then, and it was everything. It was a effortless glide of lips and tongues curling around each other that had them booth breathless within moments. Parting just far enough to rest their foreheads together and breath each other's air. "I want this, I want you, I want us."

He kissed her face, quick little pecks all over, mindful of the injuries to the side of her head. Soon she was giggling and pushing him away. He didn't let her go far as he wrapped his arms around her and she snuggled in under his chin.

"Merry Christmas to me," he murmured into her hair

 _The next day, Emma wore a ribbon in her hair with a gift tag that said 'To Killian, From Emma' to her brother's Christmas party._

 _David had to give his wife $20._


End file.
